All Of Us
by sparrow-spike
Summary: Dudley has a magical kid.
1. First chat

He came down the highway as he always did, the speedometer's needle hovering just above the actual limit. Cars that passed him were first pinpoints of light at the corners of his eyes and then amazing roaring streaks. Driving at night did not mean driving in darkness. The headlights, the reflectors on the road and the orderly highway lamps that created the yellowy shade of the universe gave him a sense that darkness was far at bay. This feeling he had, the anxiety he crammed into the back of his head and the forefront wonder of how the surroundings looked like a sepia-toned photograph had him thinking his journey was to a faraway place. Somewhere magical...

He'd save it for dinner.

Anxiety flowed to cover his half-dreaming and the sepia-tone washed out to become a drowsy beige. His pupils contracted and dilated. His thoughts raced. What to say what to say what to say. _How to say it. _He was minutely aware of the woman stirring in the seat beside him. He knew, in the way a driver will know about someone in the passenger seat, that she was not awake.

His thoughts kept racing as the lamplights washed over his car in stripes.

He was in a car he had bought. He smirked a bit at that.

His parents had fallen over themselves when he mentioned that he had purchased a 1962 Ashton Martin DB4 from a collector uptown. The protests and concerns for something so _old_ being driven by someone so_ precious _was a constant onslaught of jabber for a solid twenty minutes.

What were you thinking. How much did it cost. Did you think we wouldn't buy you something new. _Do think you we don't love you. _

Slowly it had trickled to less offensive comments.

What's the mileage. The cost. How does it handle. The maker. The dealer. Color. _Do you like it. Really._

He didn't have to think hard to remember who had said what, and which remarks were said in unison.

And they hadn't asked what Riesa thought about it. He took a quick look at the woman in the passenger seat. They never asked about her. Casting sidelong glances he mulled over the relationship between his parents and his wife.

There wasn't one.

He felt his jaw clench in that odd way. His mouth puckered to the left he knew he looked like a stern gorilla. It was night, no one could see him anyway. Would they even care, the people he was passing on the highway? That a stern gorilla was driving a sports car?

He stifled a laugh, hoping the straggled puffs of breath wouldn't wake his wife. She _was _sleeping. He could see her closed lids with the striping light of the highwaylamps.

He felt his spine sinking into the back of his seat. She was the one who got him noticing the weird shade of the highway night in the first place. He had lived here much longer than her, and she pointed out something he had never seen. Something he had always been surrounded by.

_Save it for dinner._

His soft smile tightened, stretched. He thought about what to say what to say what to say.

Stripes became slices and his smile stretched.

ccc

Walking, the waiter didn't have a body. The white shirt and black pants didn't encompass any flesh or tissue or personality. The quick shuffling of the pair behind him was white noise, dips of conversation from the nearby tables covered their tracks as they tried to find their place before the waiter. This pair had been in an Ashton Martin DB4, and then in a small huddle beside the restaurant's entrance. The woman's name was Riesa, and the man's was-

"Duddykins!"

Patrons of the restaraunt looked around their tables to see if a small toddler was underfoot. When they realized the woman was referring to the large muscular blonde man they turned their attention to their plates and minded their own business.

"Mum," uttered the man.

The waiter pulled out the chair across from Petunia Dursley. Riesa blithely slipped onto it and Petunia, in equal blithe, ignored the heck out of her.

"Dudley! How good it is to see you!" she said as she positioned herself to a diagonal. "I can't believe how long it's been, a day and a half since I've talked to you."

"Mum," Dudley repeated. "I've-_We've _got something to tell you and-"

"Oh I knew it. I knew this day was it." Petunia turned her whole self now to Riesa. "He's come to his senses now, my little boy has. He's wanting something _normal _to spend his time with and he's found a way out of whatever spell you've-"

"_Mum."_

_"_Duddy it's alright, you'll come with me and you'll recover nicely and take up with someone who isn't _trash-"_

"_MOTHER."_

Petunia's head gave a slight tilt. Her long neck, her long rubbery neck Dudley thought, gave an additional curve making her look like she was going to shape herself into a loop.

He breathed. Once. Twice.

"Laurel's going."

His mother's eyes shined. Hope.

"We," he annunciated this carefully, "Are sending her."

Petunia leaned forward. Slightly.

Dudley felt his chest catching. He knew what to say.

Riesa spoke with the same knowledge.

"To Hogwarts."

With the minimal sounding out of the short "_H" _Petunia was howling, falling back into her chair with palms pressing into her eyes.

"_No." _she said.

Patrons glanced at this trio, quickly looking away and quickly looking back.

"She's a smart kid mum and we've already kept her away for a year she needs this-"

"-_nononononononono-"_

_"_The owls weren't so bad 'til they were coming out from the flue-"

"_NOnononononononononononnnNOOO-"_

_"_Petunia," Riesa spoke. "We're taking her."

The old woman's arms dropped and her stare bore into Riesa.

"_No."_

_"_Yes." Dudley gave the word a clear, glorious escape from his mouth.

His mother's eyes slid to his. She was silent. And then-

"_Nonononononono-"_

Dudley stood, helped his wife from her chair.

"_Nonononononononoononooooo-"_

"Yes," he said again, with equal glory. Looking at Riesa with his hand cupped around her arm he said, "Our daughter is going."

Petunia was screeching now.

"My daughter is a witch!" he said over the noise. "And I love her! My wife is a witch and I love her!"

They left as Petunia closed her head within her arms, shaking.

A drunk man quietly remarked to nobody at the bar. "Yew know? I've been saying the same about me own for years, mate."


	2. Between family

Knuts were copper. Sickles silver. Galleons gold. Copper Knuts. S to s. G to g. Value went the same way as if they were medals being passed out at a game.

Dudley Dursley held his head over his open palm, the coins spread out looking like staring eyes. He was about to become a foreigner, he should get used to less subtle staring.

"DUDLEY!"

He didn't think wizards went so far to single out strangers walking down the street.

"DUDLEY DID YOU FIND THE SATCHEL?"

"Oh!" Dudley shot out of his thoughts. "Yeah, Riesa, I've got it in the room!"

His wife walked into their bedroom, her expression a little stressed but with evident relief. Her hair was sticking up in odd places.

"You didn't really think it was in the toaster, did you?"

"What makes you say that?" she said quickly.

"Your eyebrows are sticking up."

Riesa's fingertips flew to smooth them out and cringed at the static shocks.

"Where did you find it?" she murmured.

"Between the bed and the lamp table," her husband replied. "I made sure to get all the coins."

"You remember which are which?"

"Galleon," Dudley said plucking the coins from his palm. "Sickle. Knut."

"And to make change?"

Dudley handed the satchel of money to his wife and covered his eyes.

"Dudley..." Riesa crooned, putting her arms as well as she could around Dudley. Still holding the satchel in one hand she had the other one tugging at her husband's arm.

He responded with theatric snuffles and a moan of "It's useless. I'm a thick Muggle. They'll use me on posters to keep their kids in school."

"They've already got someone for that, hon." Riesa said, tugging on his arm while her voice lifted to the joke. "His name is Rumble Jenks and his specialty is running head-on into Quaffles."

That one got him. Riesa hadn't had a problem explaining Quidditch to Dudley.

Dudley snorted as he brought his arm down to wrap around his wife, the smile on his face matching hers.

"I don't thick you're _too_ thick," she said as she put a hand behind his neck. Dudley smirked as he lifted her just so her toes graced the floor, and could feel her smile as they kissed.

"MOMMA IS THE SCHOOL UNDERWATER?"

"_Laurel," _Riesa responded. Dudley leaned his forehead onto hers, conspirators in parenthood.

And then the girl was in the room with them. She had a snorkeling mask on. Flippers. Obviously she had her hopes up.

"Well?"

"Laurel," Dudley said, "Get some walk-around clothes on, yeah? We're getting ready to leave."

"_Daaaaaaaaad," _Laurel keened. "It's not like I'll be the weirdest-looking one there." Her chin fell as she asked, "I won't be, will I?"

Riesa walked over to her daughter. Laurel had the dark hair and sleepy-dog eyes that were common in her family, the stocky build she had inherited from Dudley. Riesa wrapped the girl in a tight hug as she said "You're not weird honey, just a witch."

"Yeah, glad you got around to explaining that. The first time you said it I thought it was an insult."

Riesa chuckled as she took the mask off Laurel's head.

"Laurel."

"Yeah."

"What did you do to your hair."

"Nothing."

"What did you do to the hair that's not on your head."

"Dust bin."

"Go to your room."

Laurel backed out of the doorway and headed down the hall. Pretty quick, Dudley thought, for a shorty in flippers.

"Hey now, it's not that bad," he said.

Riesa said through her hands, "She's got less hair than the corpse of a Demiguise."

"You..." Dudley floundered. "...Can be strange some of the time."

"Ah," Riesa said. "I might want you to meet a friend of mine while we're shopping. Then you'll have a decent idea of the strange. _Then _and only _then._"

"Well...sure..."

Riesa threw her hands up. "I don't know _what _that girl was thinking. She's old enough to know better and she's going to end up with a _comb-over_ for Merlin's sakes!"

"A lot of kids do that nowadays," Dudley said.

"What?"

"You know, the uh, swoopy thing," he gestured as he put his bangs over one eye, "Like this."

"_Swoopy _thing."

"I don't know what they call it," Dudley said defensively. Riesa was heading out the door, "I might be able to do something. Merlin forbid she _does_ end up the weirdest-looking in Diagon Alley."

Dudley stood in the middle of the bedroom as the sound of his wife and daughter trickled to him.


End file.
